![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
I don't know what it is about him, and that scares me.
He's the kind of person I shouldn't even like, what with that attitude of his. That small, knowing smile that curves his lips and the look of perpetual amusement that lights those bright blue eyes. The way he just tells me what he's going to do, instead of asking.
I feel like I should be more cautious around him, but I always end up dropping my guard.
Christ. I don't just drop my guard. I throw the fucking gates open, and welcome him in.
But at the same time...god fucking dammit, it's good. Touching him is good. Kissing him is good. Fucking him is good.
And it's more than just the sex. Somehow I get the feeling that this might be easier if that's all it was, but there's something that makes me want to talk to him, to tell him about...everything. To ask him about his life in turn.
We're not supposed to. Instinctively, I want to dance around that, just the same way I change the subject every time Aryol brings up the orphanage. Like acknowledging that we used to have lives would make that fact we don't have them anymore hurt more.
I want to know him, though. I want to understand what's going on behind his eyes when he looks at me, and what it means when I can feel him tremble. He seems so unmovable sometimes, like a monolith, not a man, unreadable, and unknowable too, in spite of the genial veneer.
But then at other times, he's just warm, living flesh housing a soul as bruised as mine. I can feel that, dammit. I know those wounds are there. He lets me see them. I get the feeling not a lot of people get that close.
I don't know...I just need to wait and see what happens, I guess. Snipers are patient, like Aryol is fond of reminding me.
We'll see.
( 'You mean kinkier than what's already transpired? That might be a tall order.' )
He's the kind of person I shouldn't even like, what with that attitude of his. That small, knowing smile that curves his lips and the look of perpetual amusement that lights those bright blue eyes. The way he just tells me what he's going to do, instead of asking.
I feel like I should be more cautious around him, but I always end up dropping my guard.
Christ. I don't just drop my guard. I throw the fucking gates open, and welcome him in.
But at the same time...god fucking dammit, it's good. Touching him is good. Kissing him is good. Fucking him is good.
And it's more than just the sex. Somehow I get the feeling that this might be easier if that's all it was, but there's something that makes me want to talk to him, to tell him about...everything. To ask him about his life in turn.
We're not supposed to. Instinctively, I want to dance around that, just the same way I change the subject every time Aryol brings up the orphanage. Like acknowledging that we used to have lives would make that fact we don't have them anymore hurt more.
I want to know him, though. I want to understand what's going on behind his eyes when he looks at me, and what it means when I can feel him tremble. He seems so unmovable sometimes, like a monolith, not a man, unreadable, and unknowable too, in spite of the genial veneer.
But then at other times, he's just warm, living flesh housing a soul as bruised as mine. I can feel that, dammit. I know those wounds are there. He lets me see them. I get the feeling not a lot of people get that close.
I don't know...I just need to wait and see what happens, I guess. Snipers are patient, like Aryol is fond of reminding me.
We'll see.
( 'You mean kinkier than what's already transpired? That might be a tall order.' )
